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2015.03.16 - Online call from EVAnet
It is almost midnight and Oracle has an incoming call through secure serves. Fantomex from EVAnet.bl apparently. And .bl is a rather uncommon country code. Bagalia is somewhere between Latveria and Madripoor in the hellhole pole. Amazing they even can get something out of there through the nets. Then again, the whole domain might be fake; Fantomex has an odd sense of humor. But EVA (or rather, E.V.A.) has been a presence in the nets for a couple years. A subtle, but dangerous hacker. Oracle has been working harder than usual, what with Slade still being on the loose. when she gets an incoming call, she smirks, just a bot. Yes, Fantomex had pulled Slade out aof a firefight - but if he hadn't, she and many more would be dead. After making sure her firewalls and anit-intrusion systems are running, she accepts the call. "Hello, Fantomex. This is Oracle." Oracle's voice, as always when communicating, is modulated as to be unrecognizable. "A pleasure to meet you," replies a feminine, but obviously electronic voice. "E.V.A. transferring call..." a pause, then a man’s voice, speaking with strong French accent, takes over, "bonjour, Oracle. I should have sent a report a while ago, but I have been trying to reach the racine... the root of this bloody business in Bludhaven. Deathstroke has been elusive lately, but I am sure he remains in the city." "So it seems." Oracle's voice is calm and businesslike, revealing no emotion. "However, one of my agents reported to me that you have in fact been in Deathstroke's company, at least for a time." Barbara drums her fingers on her chair. Her mind is not wholly on Fantomex; she's analyzing schematics for some sort of exosuit. "For about ten minutes, oui," replies Fantomex. "I took him and his daughter out of the battle, to the other side of the town. It looked a good idea, despite the presence of Captain America it seemed likely SHIELD forces would be massacred. I have to say I found him more bloodthirsty than expected." "A wise calculation. Deathstroke is no ordinary man." A few commands, and Barbara is compaing two schematics side by side, noting each one's strength and weakness. "He's since been very cautious, however, since you have benefitted him, perhaps you have an advantage. Do not think for a moment that he can be trusted - he is a madman." "Oui, perhaps," but Fantomex does not sound convinced, "his blade, it was made of steel alloy, I took spectrographic readings. Disappointing, the stories said it was made of promethium. I can get you better, Oracle. Are you a swordsman or just a collector?" He is digging for information, he just can’t stop himself. "I could still acquire it, but it seems pointless." Barbara can't help the small chuckle under her breath. Fantomex thought she was a sword collecter? Well, let him think that. "My reason's for wanting Deathstroke's sword are a personal matter." she replies smoothly. "I do appreciate all your effort. But I have my eyes set on that particular sword." "You do? Interesting," and Fantomex is ever curious. "I will find him again, and we shall see if I can ‘convince’ him to part ways with it. Meanwhile, why don’t you tell me what you think he is doing in Bludhaven. He doesn’t strike me as crime lord material. Is he getting paid for all these displays of violence?" "He seems to be getting enjoyment out of these shows of depravity." Oracle states, letting no emotion color her voice. Last thing she wanted to do was give Fantomex hints. A few more clicks, and she's now analysing some sort of cybernetic control system. "Crime lord? No. He’s a warlord. He wants an army, a plot of land. He wants to terrorize, to control." "You must be American, Oracle," comments Fantomex, amused. "A warlord? Armies of thugs are commonplace in other countries, easier to hide, cheaper to arm. A man like Deathstroke could easily rule over a small country if he wanted. Yet he is a mercenary. That is why I was assuming someone is paying him to do what he is doing. Or at least to do it in Bludhaven." "Me, American? Mon ami, I am everywhere and nowhere." There's a small chuckle in Oracle's voice. "As for Slade? He has a past connected to Bludhaven." The redheaded woman continues to pour of schematics, as well as read various reports. "In that case, I’d like to know about this past," because Fantomex knows also some things about Deathstroke. Files E.V.A. has decrypted only recently. "Did you know he was an officer in the US Army? What does he have to do with Bludhaven past?" "Yes, I knew." Oracle has a tight girn on her face. She's inpressed Fantomex got that much, actually. He would be a useful ally. "His real name is Slade Wilson. He caused some trouble in Bludhaven several years ago, and tangled with the Batman and his apprentices." "That is interesting," admits Fantomex, "still not what I’d like to know. I suppose I will have to ask him directly, if I can find him." A brief pause, but the he adds. "But Warlording? Still not fits his profile, Oracle. And his daughter... what can you tell me about her?" Barbara Gordon has to admit Fantomex has a point. Slade wasn't a ruler. He was a warrior. "You have a point. If, when you encounter him, be careful." Her screens shift flickering as she pulls up more data. WayneTech, Lexcorp, Stark Industries... "As for his daughter, Ravager? I know that's she a career mercenary, like her father. Other than that, she's an enigma." "She was there, hyper or on drugs," mentions Fantomex. For a few seconds it seems he is going to add something else. But he changes his mind. Oracle doesn’t need to know how much he can read from a person just by looking at them, not when he knows so little of the hacker. "Some of Deathstroke’s men got caught, including a woman that... tossed a motorcycle to me, and then was shot by Deathstroke. But not killed, I don’t think so. Maybe they can shed some light in this dilemma." "Some sort of serum." Oracle states. Fantomex neeed to know exactly what he was getting into. "He used it on some of his female followers. Super strength, reflexs. But the drawback is insanity." Cold, logical. It's hard for Barbara to act so detacted. But she needs to. "What else happened?" "Sacre bleu," that is all Fantomex says for a minute. "That could be it. And he is playing with fire, oui? Still, perhaps Bludhaven makes sense. I will find him and perhaps report. Fantomex out." The line goes silent. Did he got cryptic on Oracle? Of course he did. Being annoying is an art form for Fantomex. Category:Log